


And Together We Stand

by ThaliaFromGrace



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Loki, Alpha T'Challa, BAMF Bruce, BAMF Loki, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF T'Challa, F/M, Gen, Good Loki, Hurt Tony Stark, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Omega Tony Stark, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-29 17:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11445807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaliaFromGrace/pseuds/ThaliaFromGrace
Summary: Steve is looming over him, using the shield to crush into his chest, into the arc reactor, into him. Tony coughs up blood, the syrupy thick texture of it making him gag behind the suit. His vision is beginning to black out at the edges, and he curls his body protectively over his stomach, already knowing it's too late.





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Doesn't belong to me, all characters are property of their respective owners.  
> Constructive criticism welcome. This will mostly be centered around Tony.  
> Comments are always appreciated!

Tony was the first to reach her side.

Despite the fact that both Clint and Wanda were closer to Natasha, neither of them made an effort to go to her.

Clint, for all his training and skills was looking down at Natasha's crumpled form, eyes unfocused and body completely stiff, seemingly uncaring of the fact that his best friend was in the process of bleeding out at his feet, and Wanda... Wanda had the same stricken expression as everyone else painted on her face, the implications of what she'd done, of who she'd done it to, making her reach both hands up to cover the sobs that were threatening to spill forth from her thin mouth.

Tony had never felt more afraid, throwing himself to his knees, he gently cradled Natasha's form to him, mindful of the warnings that Friday was murmuring into his ear. Removing the armor's face plate off with trembling fingers, he felt more than saw, the bright red streaks of blood it left on his skin.

He could feel his breath beginning to leave him in short, choppy pants and he forced himself to breathe, now was not the time for a fucking panic attack. Natasha's prone form was still oozing red, a shade so much brighter than her hair and Tony didn't understand any of it all.

He had seen the moment when Black Widow was engaged in combat with Hawkeye, her face open and teasing, both of them knowing they had chosen their sides in this, and understanding where it left the other.

Black Panther and War Machine reached him as the emergency helicopter Friday had ordered came down, T’Challa gripping Tony’s encased hand tightly, unable to connect with him in the way he wished to because of their respective suits.

Tony clenched his eyes, not wanting to see as the personnel efficiently hooked up Widow to various monitors and I.V. fluids, her suit completely drenched in a myriad of black and red.

They had pressed gauzes to the gaping hole that had tried to rip her in half, (faces carefully blank, but eyes telling another story,) the hole that was caused by the jagged piece of metal that Wanda had impaled her on.

Tony swallowed the bile back, making a conscious effort to calm himself, it wouldn't do to let the bittersweet scent of fear and anger reach T'Challa or Rhodey, he didn't want to be a weak Omega, one who needed the support of an Alpha to calm him down, and he didn't want to make the situation any more volatile than it currently was.

Tensions were high enough already, and Tony didn't want to burn through the scent blockers any quicker than he had to.

Tony felt Wanda's distress as she was gathered into Barton's arms, the Alpha soothing the Omega as best as he could, (and why, why, why was he comforting her?)

His scent mixed with hers in such a putrid way that it made Tony's stomach roil in disgust. Not for the first time in his life, Tony stared into Wanda's cold, empty eyes and wished that magic didn't exist.

~

In the aftermath of it all, Tony learned that Captain America and Barnes had escaped.

Peter, God bless the kid, had done his best to stop them, but Scott Lang had intercepted and swatted him out of the way, knocking the boy out. Thankfully, other than a few scrapes and bruises, Peter was alright, Tony didn't know what he would've done with himself if the kid had gotten seriously injured.

The flight back to Avengers Headquarters was a quiet one, the kid's face was tearful and he gnawed at his lower lip, not willing to meet Tony's eyes. Tony could feel distress and guilt rolling off of him in waves, and Tony, who had never been good at offering any form of comfort, couldn't begrudge the kid when he curled into his side, hazel eyes meeting his meekly, as though expecting a reprimand of some sort.

Tony put his arm around the kid's scrawny frame and brought him closer, his scent helping in calming him down some, his nature already beginning to identify the boy as part of him, a part of his pack. He eyed the setting sky as Peter dozed off, thoughts running in every direction.

T'Challa and Vision had helped escort Wanda, Clint, Scott and Sam off to be interrogated by Ross. Rhodey had flown ahead and made sure Dr. Cho had everything she would require in order to treat Natasha. Tony spared a grim smile at the thought of a scar being left behind, Natasha would hate not being able to wear bikinis.

~

It should have never come to this. Whatever issues Steve fucking Rogers had with him and with the Accords, didn't justify what had occurred in the airport. Tony hadn't expected to see Clint, or Wanda there.

Clint, for one, was supposed to be enjoying his vacation time with his family, far away from the mess that Captain America and the witch had inadvertently caused.

Wanda was to be staying at Avengers Headquarters, away from anything that could continue painting her in a bad light to the public, while Tony worked on getting her pardoned and hopefully trained under Charles' guidance.

Wanda had already proven to them before that her powers were beyond even her control, she let her emotions control her and today it had nearly cost Natasha her life. Tony didn't even know who the hell Scott Lang was, beyond what Friday had briefed him on, and really? Ex-convicts and temper-tantrum-throwing-teens, Tony had expected better from Steve, from all of them.

It was selfish and immature, running away from the things he didn't agree with, blindly trusting a brainwashed super soldier, putting him before his teammates, before his pack. Teammates he'd known and fought alongside with for nearly a decade.

Steve Rogers put Barnes before anything and everyone else, uncaring of the consequences, he hadn't even bothered to stay behind long enough to check whether or not Natasha was going to live. Some team leader he was, Tony thought bitterly, thinking of the way that Natasha had bled out before his very eyes. No amount of training or skill could've prepared her for Wanda's magic, she hadn't been able to move out of the way.

He scrubbed at his suddenly damp eyes with the hand that wasn't holding Peter to him, cursing his raging hormones for making him all sorts of emotional.

And that right there, was another thing to worry about. How would T'Challa take the news? They weren't bonded yet, and a small part of Tony couldn’t help but wonder if that was because it was the way T'Challa wanted things to be. They hadn't been dating long, not even a year yet, and yet Tony was aware of the way he felt for T'Challa, he knew this was different, this, between them? It was something he wanted to last, to cherish, to protect, and see it bloom into something that went beyond dates and romps in the sheets.

It went beyond simple lust, and wow did that pain him to think, because lust?

Lust was easy, he could deal with wanting T'Challa simply for his body, a few quick fucks and he could get that out of his system, no messy feelings attached, but this was so much more than that.

And it terrified and excited Tony at the same time.

Tony knew that he'd never find someone on this Earth who complemented him in the way T'Challa did. He could only hope that the young King felt the same way.

~

He must've drifted off himself, because when he woke Peter was staring at him intently, hovering almost protectively over his wary form.

"Does he know?" He whispered shyly, all doe eyes and innocence.

Tony didn't bother feigning ignorance in regards to what Peter was talking about, so instead he settled for a curt no, eyes not meeting the teen's.

Of course, it'd be Spider-Baby of all people who would figure it out first. Though that was most likely due to the fact that his system had already burned through most of the scent blockers.

Not even T'Challa knew of this recent development, and Tony had no plans of telling him until after they got this whole mess sorted out and his not-yet-mate had some time to properly mourn for his Father.

He was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug, all long limbs and shaggy hair as Peter basically crawled into his lap, careful to avoid Tony's still flat stomach.

"Congratulations Mr. Stark! I'm sure he's going to be so thrilled!" And the way he says it, with so much conviction and that innocent naivety that all teenagers seemed to possess, made Tony almost believe him.

~

He had asked Peter to avoid telling anyone else, and had remembered to take some scent blockers before they arrived at the mansion upstate.

The kid had agreed, understanding it wasn't his place or his secret to tell, but that didn't stop him from voicing his concerns in regards to Tony fighting alongside them.

That was another reason why Tony didn't want anyone knowing about the baby, he was sure that T'Challa and Rhodey would not have hesitated to tie him down in his bedroom and kept him far away from anything they deemed too strenuous, and Tony didn't want that.

They needed him, they needed Iron Man and Tony Stark's influence and money and all the help they could get when it came to trying to sort this mess out.

There was no way Tony was going to get left behind simply because he was pregnant. That didn't mean he didn't worry about fighting. The suit was resistant, and he'd added additional improvements with T'Challa's help. Yet Tony knew he was far from invincible, when it came to dealing with super soldiers and mutants, Tony was just a rich guy playing dress up.

~

They arrived very late at night, and knowing that Rhodey and Dr. Cho were probably in bed already, Tony shooed the kid off to get some much-needed rest too.

"Listen kid, I have to go make a call to someone important, think you can get yourself settled in with Friday's help?" The kid was dead on his feet, but that didn't stop him from nodding dutifully and saluting Tony as he sauntered off in search of his rooms.

Tony watched him go, before he slowly wandered into his main office, shutting the door behind him and rummaging through his desk for an old StarkPhone he had hidden somewhere.

He thought about what he wanted to say, picking out the words in his head with great care, no need to cause another international crisis (that would undoubtedly fall on his shoulders) by angering ol' mean and green.

He knew that Natasha was alright now, Rhodey and Friday had kept him updated on her condition throughout the duration of his trip back home, and yet that didn't make what he was planning on saying any easier. Putting the phone to his ear, he waited as it rang...and rang...and suddenly Friday was flooding his desk with images and articles.

He took a moment to scan through everything, mind turning with the information he'd gathered. Tony dropped the phone into a drawer, a command on his lips as he gathered himself together and walked out of the mansion into the cold night.

~

He didn't understand what he was seeing, the tears were making it difficult, the ringing in his ears drowned out everything else, and still somehow, he manages to choke out, "Did you know?"

Steve's face was answer enough.

Tony's vision is swimming in red and he can't begin to make out what Steve is trying to say.

It doesn’t matter anymore, he carelessly aims a repulsor blast straight at Captain America's chest, grinning spitefully as it shoots the man back a few feet and straight into a wall.

Steve had made his choice, had chosen to side and protect his family's murderer, Steve had placed him before his entire pack.

He goes after his Mother's killer.

He doesn't even realize Steve is trying to pull him back and away from Barnes until it's too late.

He's wounded, and both of them are gaining on him. Tony spares a quick thought for his unborn child, anger and betrayal roiling within as he tries to give as good as he gets, and then suddenly Steve is looming over him, using the shield to crush into his chest, into the arc reactor, into him.

Tony coughs up blood, the syrupy thick texture of it making him gag behind the suit's face plate. His vision is beginning to black out at the edges, and he curls his body protectively over his stomach, already knowing it's a fruitless endeavor.

He's lost the baby.


	2. Rise and Shine Tony,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you all loved this! Thank you so much for your lovely comments! I realized I should have posted a miscarriage tag in the warnings, but I didn't want to spoil anything.  
> If this ever gets too sad for any of you, I have another (completely cute and fluffy fic, I promise,) that I'm currently working out.  
> Go check it out!  
> As always, the characters don't belong to me, but to their respective owners.  
> Comments are always appreciated!

He awoke to a blinding light, pain throbbing on his cheek, turning over he whimpered softly into his pillow. His whole body _ached, and why was everything so bright?_ “FRIDAY,” he rasped, “lights.” There was no answer, and so he slowly opened both eyes to the day's morning.

 

Everything came rushing back.

 

_“Did you know?”_

 

_The shield, stained with his own blood and pieces of the Iron Man suit, cutting into him._

 

_The melted snow, surrounding him, so cold, dirty with his blood._

 

_Steve, staring down at him like he was nothing._

 

_The baby._

 

He shot off the bed, the sheets tangling around his ankles, uncaring of the fact that his body protested and screamed at him to stop, to rest. His limbs wouldn't obey him, and in his rush, he manages to trip into one of tables that make up the decoration in his room. It falls to the ground with a sharp clatter, the glass of water that was resting there tinkling to the floor into a thousand pieces, waking up the person who was asleep in the armchair near his bed.

 

Running into the bathroom he fell to his knees, the impact jarring as he heaved and emptied bile into the toilet bowl. He was shaking, praying fervently to a God he didn't believe in, that it had all been a bad dream, that Steve hadn’t tried to kill him, that his baby was safe. The livid bruises and smattering of cuts on his arms and legs said otherwise.

 

“Tony, Tony, stop, listen to me-” Bruce. Bruce was there, his warm fingers running through his hair, voice patient and soft, and how? Why was Bruce here?

 

“Bruce. My baby.” He choked out, hiding his face as he sobbed into the other’s chest, fingers clenched so tightly into fists that he felt his own nails cutting into his skin in painful groves. Bruce froze underneath him, and that was all the confirmation Tony needed. He screamed, howls of pain and anger, fists slamming into the cold tile underneath his feet. He pounded them at the ground, uncaring of the pain, he wanted to feel the hurt, he wanted to see them bleed, he wanted- he needed-

 

“T’Challa.” The word escapes his lips unconsciously, and Tony realizes how true it is. He wants T’Challa, he needs him to be here. Bruce acts as though he didn’t hear him, even as his fingers gently prod at his chest.

 

T’Challa was going to be devastated.

 

“Tony, you have to calm down, the stitches-you aren’t completely healed yet.” Tony tried, he really, really did, but the pain he felt was searing, it went beyond the bruises decorating his face, his arms, his legs, his chest, it was more than the hurt he’d felt when he learned about Rogers’ betrayal, his lies, it felt like he was _empty_. His baby, T’Challa’s baby, _their_ baby, was gone. How could Bruce not understand that?

 

In between dry heaves he manages to ask, “Where’s T’Challa?”

 

And Bruce, gentle, quiet, calm, steady, Bruce goes green at the edges. Tony pulls back from him slowly, eyes searching his face for some kind of answer. Bruce has closed his eyes, is taking deep, calming, breaths, but Tony can't ignore the reaction his simple inquiry had on the man next to him. He wants to vomit again. Taking a stuttering breath of air, he gently tugs on Bruce's sleeve, his fingers, mangled as they feel, protesting the action. "Bruce?" He questions again, eyes searching his for an answer.

 

Bruce turns away from him, even as he helps haul Tony to his feet.

 

The journey back to his bed is a slow one, whatever strength Tony had managed before is gone now, and he sags against Bruce, trusting him to take his weight. Tony feels lightheaded, and everything is too bright and too dark at the same time. When they enter the room again he realizes that his little episode has brought the attention of both Vision and Peter. They stand before him, Peter so small against Vision's tall and broad frame.

 

The kid is staring at him with wide, tear filled eyes, body moving toward them uncertainly. His hands tremble and reach up as though wanting to touch Tony, but he takes a step back instead, and Tony manages a weak grin his way, thinking that Peter really needs to stop looking at him like he’s bound to fall apart any moment.

 

Bruce notices the direction of his stare, and he smiles down at Tony, even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, "He was the one who found you." Peter nods at this, and for a second his face shutters into a mask of complete, terrifying anger, fists clenched at his side.

 

When Bruce finally sets him down on the bed, Tony is out of breath. He curls into himself -S _teve looming over him, the Captain America shield caked with his blood, with their blood-_ looking at Bruce, he asks, "What happened?"

 

Bruce takes a deep, fortifying breath, and tells him.

 

~

 

Vision and Peter had been the ones to find him, passed out and with hardly a pulse.

 

They had seen T'Challa take off, with Rogers and Barnes in tow, in one of his private jets.

 

Vision shows him this, pressing the gem in his forehead, his face an odd mixture of regret and pity, he projects the scene to the whole room. Tony sees Peter through Vision’s eyes, face pale and sick, screaming and slipping with the ice, rushing, falling to his side, all the while begging for Tony to wake up.

 

Tony sees himself, the snow around him melted and stained in red. His skin tinged in hues of blues and blacks, bruises already mottling on his cheekbone and jaw.

 

He sees the arc reactor, shining weakly in his open chest, a beacon of hope, a call that goes unanswered.

 

He watches impassively as T'Challa leaves, graceful and collected as ever, the man not even sparing a second glance backwards.

 

Tony's eyes take in all of this, even as he pretends he can't hear Bruce taking deep breaths behind him, or hear Peter's snuffling.

 

For his part, Tony pretends he can't feel his heart break.

 


	3. Is Reality Beginning to Sink In Yet?

T'Challa is not pleased with the sight that greets him when he enters the throne room.

He coolly eyes the misfit band of heroes that stand before him, all of them avoiding his gaze in shame. All of them, that is, except for their Captain. Wanda, Barton, Wilson, and Scott Lang, not one of them making a move to say something.

They look decidedly out of place in the splendor that is T’Challa’s royal room.

T'Challa knows that his face is a complete mask of unaffected indifference, it's the same face that goes with the public persona he had perfected throughout his teenage years, and it's never failed him yet.

Despite this, he also realizes that the people who stand before him are wary, he knows that they can feel his agitation on some instinctual level. Wanda is fidgeting in her prison garb, hiding her small form behind Hawkeye and T'Challa cannot help but ignore the sneer that wants to form across his handsome face.

The young King of Wakanda had thought he'd made himself perfectly, completely, clear when he had ordered the Captain to not do anything _rash_ without consulting him first. This definitely fell under such a category.

It was also a blatant act of disrespect.

T’Challa knows that the thought must also be running through the rest of the royal guard and the Dora Milaje. He had gone against some very strong critics when he’d brought home two of the world’s most wanted criminals. None would dare contradict their King outright of course, but that did not stop them from voicing opinions on the matter.

T’Challa had done his absolute best to assuage their worries, ever aware of the fact these people trusted him. They trusted him to keep Wakanda and its people safe and out of the reach of greedy foreigners. Housing two of the world's most wanted war criminals was not conductive to keeping Wakanda safe and off the rest of the world's radar.

The Dora Milaje surround their King and Okoye eyes T’Challa as though expecting a command to come from his lips. He knows that they are prepared for anything. Be it to help the newcomers to their living quarters, or to kick them out of Wakanda's borders through whatever means necessary.

T’Challa subtly shakes his head at Okoye, “Welcome to Wakanda, although these are not quite the circumstances I would’ve wanted for our first official meeting, I am glad you have made your journey safe.”

He says nothing about being glad of having them in his palace, because that would be a complete lie.

These people that stand before him now, were on opposite side from him not even a week ago. Fighting against him, against Anthony and the Accords, against something his Father had believed in.

Scott Lang and Sam Wilson mumble a half-hearted ‘thank you,’ in his general direction, looking more than a little uncomfortable. T'Challa keeps them there for only a few minutes more, not bothering to speak or do anything other than enjoy watching the way they squirm like scolded children in front of him. Eventually, he tires of this, and waves one of the Dora's to guide them to the guest chambers.

"A word Captain, if you would?" Steve waves away Sam and Clint, and makes to follow T'Challa to his office. They have much to discuss.

~

Anthony was not answering his phone.

  
T'Challa knew it had something to do with Rogers' little prison break stunt. Tony had probably already connected the dots and figured out just who was housing the newly dubbed 'war criminals.' He was a genius after all.

T'Challa knew he needed to talk to him, he missed him greatly and they had many things they needed to discuss. Despite not being yet bonded, T'Challa cared immensely for the other man, and he wouldn't let something as simple as this get in the way of him having his future mate in every possible way he could have. The King knew that Tony would understand if he just listened to what Rogers had to say.

Sergeant Barnes had been nothing more than a pawn, used by others so cruelly, and T'Challa had almost murdered him in a fit of misplaced rage. Anthony was a logical, rational man, he would understand T’Challa’s reasons for wanting to help Barnes. Despite these assurances he made to himself, he could not help but worry endlessly about Tony and his wellbeing.

T'Challa had briefly considered trying to get in touch with him through one Virginia "Pepper" Potts.

Then he thought better of it, Anthony might not have told Ms. Potts the complete version of events that led up to his fight against Captain America and his team.

He remembered Anthony mentioning once, in the midst of a wonderful meal that he'd prepared for T'Challa, how he refused to drag any more people into the mess that was his life with the Avengers. T'Challa knew that that was one of the main reasons Anthony had ended his relationship with her.

The fact of the matter was that T'Challa was afraid. He was afraid he had ruined his and Anthony's fragile relationship. He had thought that in giving Tony time to calm down, his lover would be more receptive to hearing T'Challa's reasons for wanting to help Barnes. He didn’t dare think of what the implications of him being wrong on that assumption would be.

~

In the end, the answer to his worries came in the form of one Natasha Romanova. She had asked if she could meet with him privately, stating that the nature of her visit would have something to do with the newly written Accords, but also implying that it would deal with other, _certain_ matters as well.

T'Challa had been relieved, both at hearing the fact that she was quite well recovered now, and at the prospect of having news about Anthony.

He gratefully accepted Natasha's presence in his home, and had even offered to send one of his private jets to pick her up, from wherever she might be. The Black Widow had politely refused his offer, and promised to be in Wakanda sometime the next day.

T'Challa let out a sigh of relief. Soon he would have news of his beloved.

~

Steve Rogers was hiding something from them. T'Challa could sense it in the very air that surrounded the man.

When T'Challa had been on his way to Siberia, he had not been in his right mind. Anthony hadn't even been aware of the fact that he was following some steps behind him, and T'Challa had thought that to be for the best. He didn't wish to incriminate his future mate in what very well could have ended as a murder.

T'Challa, as King of Wakanda had diplomatic immunity, Anthony did not. They would fix that very soon of course, once the mess of the Accords had been cleared up, T'Challa would finally find the time to do what he'd been planning on doing since Anthony's and his sixth date. He would propose to the man, and make him a part of T'Challa and Wakanda officially, and legally.

Arriving in Sibera however, he had seen the three gathered around a screen of sorts, he couldn't make out what they were saying, the glass was thick, even for his enhanced senses. He had seen Anthony shoot a blast into Captain America's chest, but afterwards T'Challa had left in search of Zemo.

T'Challa did not have many regrets in his young life, but as he stared down at the shell of a man who was so willing to take his own life, T'Challa wished that he could've seen what was so plainly obvious before. He had decided to bring the man to justice, murder would have been far too kind for the likes of him.

Zemo would pay for the hurt he'd cause, but he would do it in a lawful, justly manner. After having apprehended him and loading him into his jet, he had come face to face with both Steve Rogers and the one they called the Winter Soldier.

Both had looked decidedly haggard, and T'Challa could smell hints of Tony coming off from both of them. They were bruised and bloodied, when he had asked the Captain what had occurred, Steve had assured him that Tony was alright, their fight had just been a minor inconvenience they sorted through, until Tony had realized Barnes was indeed innocent.

Steve told him Tony was tying up a few loose ends, but that he would be leaving behind them. And even though all of T'Challa's instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong, that something was off about the whole situation, he chose to put his trust in the man.

T'Challa had no reason not to believe him.

~

“Peter, what are you doing here?”

She didn’t sound at all surprised, (or angry, thank God) about the fact that she'd been carrying him as a stowaway for most of her impromptu trip, and Peter stared at her reproachfully. He had been hoping to astonish her with his super-secret spy and stowaway skills, but then again, she was the Black Widow. Peter doubted anything or anyone would ever be able to even remotely catch her off guard or impress her.

“Well I couldn’t just let you come out here by yourself, now could I? What if that bi- I mean _witch_ tries to finish the job this time around?” He steps out from where he was hiding, stretching his cramped legs as he gives her a hand to help her down the jet’s platform.

Natasha’s lips turn up at the corners of their own accord at this, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And having you here will ensure that none of that comes to pass then?”

“Of course! I’ll protect you with my life!” He sounds nothing but sincere, and Natasha is willing to bet all of her money on the fact that the kid will hold his not quite promise.

“Peter, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I actually came here to speak with T’Challa. About Tony.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, but whatever protest he’s about to voice dies at the sight of T’Challa approaching. The King looks relieved to see Natasha, his smile is both sincere and welcoming, and Peter narrows his eyes at the man suspiciously.

He looks good, dressed in a sharp suit but sporting traditional Wakandan jewelry. He takes her hand in his and shakes it warmly, "Thank you for coming Ms. Romanova."

Turning to Peter, the kid interrupts rudely before the King can say anything else, "I'll be here waiting for you when you're done Nat." He starts walking away from them, ignoring T'Challa's confused frown and then says "Call me if you need backup." The Widow smiles at this, letting T'Challa lead her into the palace, easily sidestepping his question about why she'd brought Peter along.

~

As Peter was strolling through the manicured gardens that surrounded the palace, a strikingly beautiful young woman had stepped out to greet him. She had presented herself as Princess Shuri, T'Challa's younger sister.

Shuri had offered him a tour of the palace and the local villages, but Peter had politely declined, choosing instead to lurk in the gardens and wait until Natasha was done speaking with the King.

He admitted, exploring the palace seemed like a cool enough invitation that any would jump at the chance to have, but Peter was here on official business. He needed to keep an eye out on Natasha, and make sure she was okay. That, and also the fact that Peter really didn't want to run into any of the ex-Avengers made it so that he stayed put, right where he was.

Shuri accepted his reply with grace, sending over one of the various maids with some food and drinks for him, and then leaving him to his own devices.

Peter had never seen anything quite as beautiful or wondrous as Wakanda. The Vibranium Panther God statue kept a watchful eye over his people, and yet instead of coming off as oppressing or creepy, it gave off an atmosphere of home, of belonging. Peter could easily imagine Mr. Stark fitting in here, loving Wakanda like the man loved his own home.

~

T'Challa had excused himself from their conversation when one of his guards came to speak with him in their native tongue. He promised Natasha he would return, and they would continue where they left off, and then he was gone, citing he had official Wakanda related business to attend to.

Natasha found herself unimpressed with this. For a man who claimed to love Tony with all his being, he didn't seem too preoccupied in hearing what the Widow had to say about him. All the same, Natasha knew that she would get to say her piece, and T'Challa _would_ listen to her. She'd make sure of it.

But for now, she stood up gracefully, ignoring the looks of blatant distrust that the Dora Milaje shot her way, she made off in search of Peter, hoping the kid hadn’t caused too much trouble while running around unsupervised. Tony would have her head on a pike if she let anything happen to the kid.

She should have known that luck was not on her side today. 

One of the things she had asked from T'Challa before making her trip down, was to ensure that the _others_ weren't made aware of her presence here. It seemed to her that the King had some problem controlling his newly adopted pets. And of course, Peter was in the midst of it all. The kid was squaring off against Clint, his lips formed in a dangerous scowl, not even intimidated by the Alpha that stood before him. Natasha found herself feeling a glimmer of pride for her current charge. She's clearly only catching the tail end of the argument here, but she can guess what must've set everyone off, and just who they are arguing about becomes crystal clear once Clint begins yelling.

"-Look kid, I know you're convinced that the sun shines out of Stark's ass, but you've got it wrong. He's not a good person, definitely not someone you should be looking up to or hanging around. You seem as though you've got a good head on your shoulders, so, a word of advice? Don’t believe everything you hear, and Peter? Unless you have some form of death wish stay away from Stark."

It’s a clear dismissal as any, but Peter is enraged, and Natasha can’t help but note the fact that the kid looks as though he's ready to commit murder. She places a warning hand on Peter's shoulder, trying to convey everything she cannot say in words in the simple touch. Clint flounders for a moment, staring at Natasha with wide eyes. The Widow for her part, ignores him as she pulls Peter's smaller frame to hers. She spots Steve in the corner, but he won't meet her eyes.

"Tony Stark is a killer. He cares for nothing but himself. Do not let yourself be fooled by whatever shiny promises he has made you." Wanda's accent is thick with her anger as she happily continues where Clint left off, and this time, Peter doesn't hold back for the sake of Natasha.

"You think he's a killer huh? Mighty hypocritical of you to accuse Mr. Stark of something like that when you're willing to hang around the likes of him." Peter points in the direction of Steve and suddenly everything stops. Clint eyes Natasha, but her expression is completely closed off, she doesn’t even turn to look at him.

They're all staring at Peter in varying states of confusion when Scott Lang finally questions, "What are you talking about kid?"

"Peter, let's go." Natasha pulls him back by the hood of his jacket, as though he were nothing more than a wayward puppy pulling at his leash, but Peter won't go. "Tell them Captain America, tell them about how you almost killed Mr. Stark, how you left him there in the cold to die, tell them how you caused the miscarriage, how you killed his unborn child."

Peter is panting, eyes glistening with angry tears, but he stands his ground, looking vindictive as he stares at Steve Rogers' stricken expression. Peter thinks it's a good look on him. The rest of the team are staring at Steve in shock, none of them wanting to believe what the boy had just implied. Steve has gone completely ashen, and before anyone can do or say, anything else, a familiar, angry scent joins the room.

~

T’Challa had been on his way back to his office when he stopped to listen to what the child was saying, secretly amused at how ardently he defended Anthony, and taking note of the comments both Clint and Wanda made about his future mate. When the conversation began taking a sour turn, and the King realized that Natasha had joined Peter, T’Challa had wordlessly donned on the Black Panther gloves Okoye handed him.

He was going to make sure that no harm came to Natasha Romanova or Peter Parker, not in the form of Steve Rogers or Wanda’s powers. There was no time for the rest of the Balck Panther suit, and the Dora Milaje gather around him just as he begins to enter the communal living space thinking of how best to diffuse this situation-

“- _How you killed his unborn child_.”

It all falls into place.

“ _I do not like the scent blockers you use, they make you smell wrong.” The strained laugh that Tony gave him when he’d made that declaration, even as Tony kissed him, hands grabbing his jaw desperately._

_Tony’s insistence on making improvements to the suit, going so far as to asking for T’Challa’s input on making it quicker, and more resistant._

_The small moments when he’d catch Anthony staring at him with a strange mixture of hope and guilt-ridden fear, before he’d realize that T’Challa was looking at him and schooled his face into something more appropriate._

_His vague, non-committed answer he’d given to Shuri when she’d ask about the possibility of nieces or nephews appearing in her near future._

T'Challa sees red.

He has the Captain pressed against the wall, holding him up with nothing more than one hand, vibranium claws resting threateningly against his jugular before he manages to come back to himself.

Peter is whimpering in the near corner, clearly aggravated by the scent coming off from him and from Rogers. Natasha is eyeing him coldly, her body slowly inching forwards to Peter but also taking note of the Dora Milaje that surround the room. The Captain's teammates are all screaming, shouting out various things to him, but the Dora Milaje are holding them back. They eye the Captain in what could pass as shock not daring to believe what their ears had heard from the child.

~

He murdered an heir to the throne. One of the Dora's currently holding back Wanda hisses something under her breath. Okoye shushes her with a simple glance. This fight is not theirs to win. It is not the Captain's teammates either. This is between Steve Rogers and their King. T'Challa will make sure to take retribution as he sees fit.

~

  
T'Challa vaguely registers the fact that someone is trying to get his attention, and then a familiar scent floods his awareness, and suddenly Tony is there. Oh. Tony is calling to him, voice soft and steady, but he smells wrong. He reeks of fear, and desperate anger, but beneath all of that T’Challa can taste the bitter helplessness he feels. Anthony’s voice comes as though from under water, and the King tries to focus on what he is saying.

"T'Challa, that's enough. Let him go. You don’t want to do this." He is wrong, T'Challa thinks, there's nothing more that he would like to do than to rip into the Captain's flesh and watch him bleed. The beast inside of him is roaring for blood, it's demanding T'Challa to avenge, to kill, to completely destroy the thing that took away the life he and Tony had created.

Just as he's raising his claws to strike the killing blow, Tony is pulling him away. He has the Iron Man suit on, and T’Challa realizes that's the reason behind his unusual strength. T'Challa snarls unthinkingly at him, angry for being taken away from his prey, and he's able to see Tony's face flash with fear before he composes himself and pushes T'Challa away from both him and Rogers.

Peter has broken Natasha’s hold on him and he’s running over to Tony’s side trying to pull the man behind his thin form. Tony won't budge. "Mr. Stark! What are you doing here?!"

"Not now kid, Romanoff, take him." Natasha can sense Tony's anger, even from where she stands, that and the fact that he called her by her last name are clear indicators as to just how pissed Tony is with her. She tries to call for Peter but then T'Challa interrupts.

"Tony- My love- I'm sorry- I-"

And never in his life has he had so much trouble trying to convey what he wants to say. He's sorry for scaring Tony, he would never, ever raise a hand against him, no circumstances would change that.

He's sorry for failing him as an Alpha, for not knowing what his mate had gone through. He is so, so sorry, and words will never be enough to express just how he feels, and, and Tony is turning away from him, pulling Peter along.

Why is Tony turning away?

"Get yourself together, you're scaring Peter, for fuck's sake." _And_ _me_ , goes unsaid, but T'Challa knows it to be true all the same.

The King turns to look at Peter and finds that what Anthony said is the truth, the kid has never looked more terrified, he is staring up at T’Challa like he doesn’t recognize what he is seeing, and Tony is doing his best to calm him down, trying to make him go to Natasha.

T'Challa makes to reach for his lover, but Tony is faster, he finally pushes Peter to Natasha and motions for them to leave with a jerk of his head, the boy goes to Natasha and they begin to walk out of the room, even though it’s clear that Peter doesn’t want to leave Anthony behind.

T'Challa moves again, prowling closer to get to Anthony, but Tony's hands are aiming straight at T'Challa's chest, and his voice is steady when he commands the King, "Stay the fuck away from me."

Tony has donned on the Iron Man faceplate, and it makes his expression unreadable to T’Challa.

T'Challa swears he cannot breathe, he does not want to go against Tony's orders but the Alpha in him wants to do nothing else than to take his mate into his arms and make everything right.

Tony is already turning away from him, ushering Natasha and Peter into the Stark jet, and T'Challa can do nothing more than whimper in complete agony as he watches Tony leave, taking T'Challa's heart with him. 


	4. New Boy In Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos!

T'Challa is running out of the palace, intent on going after Anthony when something, or rather someone rams into his side, effectively knocking him into the grass.

He turns to face a very unimpressed Shuri, whose beautiful face is now a snarling mask of anger and disgust.

"Let him go T'Challa." She commands, eyeing him with eyes that say a thousand things.

T'Challa turns away, seeing that the Stark jet has already taken off into the cloudy gray sky, and he feels the sudden, irrational urge to go after it. As though reading his mind, Shuri kicks his side, not too gently either.

The Dora Milaje stand back a respectful distance, watching impassively as the Princess berates their King. They know this is not something with which they need interfere. That doesn't mean they're not nervous of the scene that's beginning to unfold in front of them.

  
"You dare-?" T'Challa snarls, standing to his feet, all anger and fear and guilt. He needs to have Anthony here, he needs to see him, who is Shuri to stand in the way of that?

  
The Princess interrupts abruptly, her tone cold and devoid of any emotion now. "Yes, T'Challa, I dare, you may be my king, but first and foremost you are my brother. It is my place to remind you who you are beneath everything, and as my brother I tell you, you will not go after him."

  
"Who are you to decide that? You do not understand anything Shuri." He turns away from her, afraid that in his ire he'll lash out against the second most important person in his life. Shuri isn't having any of that however, she pulls his sleeve, forcing him to face her again.

  
"I understand more than you think my King, how could you have done this T'Challa? I thought you loved Anthony!" Shuri's eyes are brimming with emotion now, and she has never looked more angered than she does in this moment, waiting for her brother to justify his actions.

T'Challa takes her in for a brief moment, eyes reading everything she does not say.

  
"You knew." He accuses angrily, fists clenched at his side as he stares down his sister. "Why did you not think to let me know?!"

  
Shuri ignores him, "Of course I knew, who do you think was the first one to figure it out?"

When T'Challa had returned from Siberia with two criminals in tow, Shuri had been wary, wondering if her brother really was more stupid than he appeared, she had held her tongue however. Knowing that she hadn't been present during any of T'Challa's many battles and moments he spent away from Wakanda. Perhaps everything had been resolved, she had thought grimly, even as she smelled and saw the Captain and his friend stained with the blood of her brother's lover.

Shuri had not been worried about it then yet, she knew logically, that Anthony could take care of himself, that he'd never willingly risk the life of his unborn child unless he absolutely had to. Even as she registered the faint scent of Anthony's blood on the Captain and his friend, she had not worried.

Despite whatever was going on at the moment between Iron Man and Captain America, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were still friends, and Shuri knew that despite their fights, they'd never hurt each other gravely. Anthony and the child would be fine, and soon he would come over so as to give the happy news to T'Challa.

She had been such a stupid, little fool.  
She should have known that fates had a different outcome for them in mind. When Anthony had not replied to any of T'Challa's calls, she had been worried, feeling the first tendrils of dread begin to form in the pit of her stomach, and she too had tried to establish contact with the man, but had been similarly ignored.

She knew something was wrong. But T'Challa had been too blind to see it. Instead, he'd welcomed the rest of the escaped prisoners into their home, giving them private chambers and access to the palace. Shuri had not been in complete agreement with all of that, she knew that Wakanda was strong, they could hold their own against any government or agency, that did not mean she wanted outsiders barging into her country in search of their runaway prisoners.

Despite this, Shuri knew that as a Princess first and foremost, she had to be diplomatic and follow her King's commands, she had trusted her brother to know what was best for all of them, and she had been wrong.

  
She hadn't tried to establish any form of contact with any of their unexpected guests, choosing to keep a formal distance from all of them. Shuri did not trust any of them. And today, when she'd been forced out of her chambers to witness the little spectacle that the so-called heroes were broadcasting for the whole palace to hear, her worst suspicions had been confirmed.

They all seemed to hold some resentment against Anthony, even though he had not been the one to place them in prison cells. She saw from the balcony, the young boy that the Black Widow had brought along for the trip, go against the archer and the witch, arguing against the vitriol that spilled forth from their mouths.

The moment the child had revealed the truth, Shuri had sagged against the railing, feeling herself grow sick with guilt. Anthony and T'Challa's child was dead. Killed at the hands of the man now enjoying their hospitality.

  
And T'Challa hadn't known about any of it.

  
"Why did you not tell me? Why didn't he?" Her brother's face is complete and utter anguish, tears trailing down his face, and even though she begins to feel the first tendrils of pity gather in her, she will not be swayed.

  
"Why do you think? He was worried of how you would take the news! And then our Father was murdered and he was caught up trying to clean their-" she gestures angrily to the inside of the palace, "-fucking mess, all while dealing with his government and a hundred others, dealing with you and your grief, when would have been a good time for him to tell you? Tell me brother." She is breathing fast now, hoping that her words will finally begin to sink into her brother's thick skull.

  
"You could have told me Shuri. If I had known, then I would have ensured none of this came to pass." He sounds as though he's trying to convince himself as much as her, and even though Shuri knows that the gardens are not an appropriate location to be having this conversation, she plows on.

  
"No T'Challa, it was not my place, I refused to betray Anthony's trust in such a manner, especially after he all but begged me to not tell you. He was worried, and had a thousand and one things on his plate so I relented. I never expected this to happen." Her voice is hollow and she can feel the emotions brim within her.

  
Her brother straightens his figure, seemingly coming to a decision as he says, "Anthony will speak to me. He will listen to what I have to say."

  
"Or else what?" She sneers, "You'll order him to? You forget T'Challa, you are a King, have you decided to be a tyrant now too?"

  
"That is not what I meant- Anthony and I must speak, he needs to listen to what I have to say."

  
"How can you expect him to?! He is but a human, with human emotions and thoughts, what can you possibly tell him now to make it up to him for all of this? What more do you want from him brother?"

  
Her brother flounders for words, "I will make it up to him, because I do not plan on losing him, I must ask for his forgiveness-"

  
"You're not listening to me! How do you think Anthony felt after seeing the very people who hurt him, being housed here, protected by the person who claims to love him?" She's finally struck him speechless, and she begins to turn away.

  
"I expected better from you brother. But now I can see, you do not deserve to have Anthony as a mate. You pride yourself on your level head now, yes, as you try to make amends for the wrongs that you committed in the aftermath of our Father's murder but you know nothing T'Challa. You did so much for those people, and through it all, you never took into account Anthony's feelings."

She hears T'Challa let forth a snarl that abruptly turns into a sob, but she is already walking into the palace.

She stops on the marble steps, turning her head slightly as she says, "Our Father knew about the child too."  
________________________________

They've barely boarded the jet and Peter can hold it in no longer,

“Mr. Stark! What are you doing here?” His voice is not squeaky at all, thank you very much, not a trace of nervousness found in his tone, nope, no sir-e. He sits down in one of the comfortable chairs, hoping to god that Mr. Stark isn't too angry with him.

  
Tony eyes him over the designer sunglasses he'd donned after taking the suit off, they're green this time, “Guess I was right about you wanting the company of your own kind.”

For a sick second Peter thinks he’s referring to the ex-Avengers, the people that had betrayed Mr. Stark’s trust, but then he realizes he’s speaking of the Black Widow.

“Oh, right. Yeah,” He laughs lamely, but then seeing Tony’s very unimpressed face he adds quickly, “I couldn’t just let her come here by herself!”

  
"So what, taking off half-cocked, without a word to anyone made complete sense to you then? Natasha can take care of herself! I wasn’t worried about her,”

Lie, Tony knows both Natasha and Peter can sense this. After Natasha’s stint in their private medical ward, Tony had been very protective of her, both in and out of Avengers business.

  
“You on the other hand, I’m responsible for you Peter. I was worried sick, I almost called up Aunt May when I couldn’t get ahold of you. Thankfully, your tracker was still in place,” Peter lets out an undignified squawk, both at the threat of Aunt May, and the fact that Tony has built a tracker into his suit. “And what do I find when I get here? Do you realize what could’ve happened if either T’Challa or Rogers, or fuck, even Clint, had lost control? They could’ve hurt you Peter. Badly.”

Peter wants to protest this, but then his mind flashes back to the moment where T’Challa was so willing to murder Captain America in front of everyone, his body running on nothing more than pure Alpha instinct and he swallows audibly. That had been more than terrifying to witness.

The emotions emanating from everyone in that moment had been strong enough to paralyze Peter with fear.

“Tony.” Natasha was attempting to calm him down, using their bond to send waves of serenity and peace, but he ignored her.

  
“No, Natasha, he needs to understand. You’re not invincible kid, even with the fucking suit on. So don’t you ever dare pull off a stunt like this again. Do you hear me?” Peter looks as though he’s on the verge of tears, and Tony sighs, closing his eyes in frustration.

  
“I’m so-sorry Mr. Stark, I promise it won’t happen again. Please, don’t take the suit away, please, I want to be a part of the team, I’ll be better I swear. I didn’t mean to make you worry, I’m sorry.” Peter’s scent is suffocating the air with fear and guilt, and Tony rubs at his forehead, feeling the fight leave him.

  
“Peter.” Peter won’t look at him, his face is pressed into his knees and his shoulders are shaking, “Come on Pup, look at me. I’m sorry I yelled at you, all right? You're still an Avenger."

  
No answer.

  
"Peter, I'm sorry, I was just so worried, and when you didn’t answer your phone, I just- I thought… I can’t lose you too okay?” He rubs a shaky hand through Peter's hair tentatively, already feeling the weight of guilt fall like a rock in his stomach.

  
Peter looks up at him, eyes bright with tears and fear but he leans into Tony's touch all the same, giving him a watery smile, "Pup?" Peter asks him, mouth curling at the edges into a soft smile,

Natasha is smiling at them, her eyes fond as she takes in the picture they make and Tony just sighs, somehow knowing that this scrawny kid is going to end up being the death of him one day.

  
"Anyway, believe it or not I actually didn't come here to yell at you two. We have a situation back home." He waits for Peter to compose himself, the kid wiping away at the tears that streak his cheeks.

Pulling out his StarkPhone he projects the contents of it onto the air in front of them and Natasha turns to him, eyes wide and disbelieving as she takes the images in.

Peter is gasping and pointing, mouth open and finger pointing, unable to form words. "Is that-?" He asks, and

Tony nods mutely.

  
"Well fuck." Natasha curses already knowing their lives just got a whole lot more interesting and complicated.

"I know." Is all that Tony says, mouth set in a grim line.  
_________________________  
It’s nearing the end of two months of the ex- Avengers’, (now officially considered amongst the likes of war criminals and terrorists) exile, when T’Challa manages to finally see Tony again. Granted, it is not in the way he wishes, but he will take what he can get.

  
After the little fiasco in which he'd tried to kill Steve Rogers, and after his very thorough scolding at the hands of his sister, T'Challa had calmed down some.

He was not sleeping, or eating much, choosing instead to focus his efforts on dealing with the new accords, and speeding the process of getting his visitors pardoned so they can leave and hopefully never return.

T'Challa was a shell of a man, not a day went by that he did not think of Anthony, wondering what his love was doing, if he was alone, or if he was being cared and coddled by someone who was not him.

  
That fateful day, after the truth had been made known to everyone, and after he'd walked into the common room, he'd found the heroes arguing and screaming at each other.  
Apparently T'Challa wasn't the only one who didn't know of Anthony's miscarriage.

  
He'd taken a savage satisfaction upon seeing the Captain's usual proud and strong face, ashen and stained with blood from Wilson's blow. They had all turned to him then, wondering what he would do and if they'd be able to stop him if he so chose to kill their leader.  
T'Challa had just walked away.

  
His Father had known too then, and now he was gone from their lives, and alongside him their child as well.  
The King feels nothing now, as he walked into his chambers on numb feet, words spinning dizzily in his mind, and suddenly he lets forth an angry, pained, roar.

The Panther inside of him is angry, but the part of him that remains a man is hurting, knowing that what he's done he can never fix.

  
He cries himself to sleep that night.  
Rationally, T'Challa knows that he can kill Steve Rogers and James Barnes and nobody would bat an eye.

He could snap their necks without any form of repercussion falling onto his shoulders. He is a King, and they murdered his heir. It would be so easy, so simple and he wants to.

The Beast within him is crying for blood to be shed, and oh how T'Challa wants for them to feel his pain. They deserve to be hurt, to know what Anthony and their child went through.

T'Challa wants so many things, and yet he cannot bring himself to act on any of them.

  
Steve Rogers had not known about Tony being pregnant.

  
Nobody knew, sans the young Peter Parker, and Shuri.

And T'Challa knows that Steve Rogers had not meant to kill his child. The man has a lot of flaws, he is pigheaded and stubborn and always believes himself to be in the right.

But he is no murderer.

When T'Challa sees him, the man is meek, he won't meet T'Challa's eyes, but he reeks of fear and guilt and submissiveness, a rather incredible feat for an alpha of his caliber.

The man looks haunted and Shuri informs him one morning over breakfast that the team has more or less turned against their beloved Captain.

T'Challa listens impassively, pushing the food around his plate and willing himself to eat.

  
Despite their earlier, and rather vocal slander of his love, both Barton and Wanda have shunned the Captain and his actions, Shuri claims that Barton has been refusing to even speak to Rogers at all.

  
It appears as if both he and the Captain are in the same predicament.  
T'Challa is still so very angry, a cloying, thick anger that threatens to consume him every time he dwells on it for too long, but deep down, he knows it is not the Captain's fault.

  
In the end, it all falls onto T'Challa. T'Challa was a fool to trust so easily, he should have paid better attention to his love, instead, he'd let himself become consumed by rage and his need for revenge.

And afterwards, after he'd discovered the truth from Zemo, he had been so ashamed, hadn't wanted for Anthony to see him, he wanted to make things right, T'Challa owed that much to Barnes. He had never considered to go to Anthony and check on him, and he would regret that mistake for the rest of his life.

  
For now, T'Challa needs to focus his attention on something else, he will fix the accords, he will push and throw his weight around as much as possible, he will do everything within his power in order for the ex-Avengers to be sent back home. This does not mean he wants them pardoned and cleared of all charges. Everyone had a part to play in the grand scheme of things, and they need to answer for it. The days of Stark Industries footing the bill and dealing with the public fallout from the Avengers' outings are soon to come to an end. Anthony will not be the only one taking the brunt of their government's anger. He will make sure of it.

  
Anthony has been steering clear of the press, something T'Challa suspects, is part due to Ms. Potts, and so this is the first time T'Challa manages to see his love. They are gathered in the communal living area, sitting in front of one of the flat screens. Wanda sitting on the couch between Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers, Clint standing behind her, arms resting lightly on her shoulders. Scott Lang is lounging on the floor, fiddling with something on his phone when the TV program breaks with a report. T’Challa swears he can feel his breath leave him.

  
The images on screen are hard to make out at first, there's a lot of shaky camera movement and dizzying shots that roam all over the place, but then finally, a focus. The New Avengers, as the reporter so helpfully informs, are all gathered around what appears to be a tear in the cloudy London sky, Iron Man stands in the front, the suit looking decidedly more menacing painted in black and gold, a very distinctive difference from what everyone is used to.

The Black Widow stands next to him, her hair long and vibrant. Next to her stands Spider-Man, and they are both wearing new and improved suits. T'Challa makes note of both Hulk and Thor, and in the sky Vision hovers above them.

On Iron Man's other side stands a regal, tall figure, and T'Challa stares, drinking in the sight in front of them.

  
"Is that-?" Clint has gone white, his voice weak as he clenchs his fists into the leather of the couch.

  
"Loki." Steve intones somberly.

  
It'd be hard to miss such an obvious thing, Loki stands before the camera, assembled alongside the team he is clad in his royal armor, all varying shades of green and gold.

He complements Iron Man’s new look quite nicely really; the reporter informs amusedly, as though their planet was not once again on the verge of an alien attack.

On screen, they see that some forms of strange worm-like spaceships are beginning to slink out of the portal,

"Chitauri." Steve supplies unnecessarily, but his eyes are glued to the images in front of them.

Iron Man is aiming what appears to be small missiles into the maw of the closest ship, and around him the new and improved Avengers are pushing back against the wave of extra-terrestrial beings that are trying to come through the opening in the sky.

The team moves in complete synchronization, a deadly, efficient formation of strength and teamwork.

It's clear to everyone who's the one giving commands and leading the pack this time around, as they watch the team follow Iron Man's movements and commands.

  
"Looks like we've been replaced Steve." Clint mutters in disdain, and these are the first words he's spoken to the Captain since that day, Steve looks startled but Clint doesn't seem to notice, his eyes never leave the Widow's lithe form as she uses the Hulk's hand as a boost to get up on one of the sentient ships.

She's lost weight, he notes worriedly, but that makes her all the quicker and deadlier, and barely a minute passes before she's back on the ground, whatever bomb she planted on the ship detonating behind her, framing her red hair in hues of yellow and orange.

  
Loki and Iron Man are fighting side by side, Loki making sure that none of the beings they're fighting get close enough to harm either of them.

Even so, his stance is obviously protective of Tony, he shields him easily as they continue to move in sync. Not that Iron Man needs any protection, he easily shoots and pushes back against the herd that's nearest them.

Spider-Man is swinging through buildings, getting close enough to plant small bombs on the Chitauri and then taking off.

They're all a sight to behold, fighting alongside one another, covering each other's blind spots, and in the middle of it all is Tony, Tony who has now taken on the role that Captain America once held. For a vague moment, Steve can feel the regret burn sour in him, but he knows he has no right to feel this way, he has made his choice, and now he must deal with the consequences.

 

The Chitauri never stood a chance.

  
"Why didn't they call us?" Scott asks the room, not waiting for an answer he turns back, and then the reporter screams.

Iron Man is falling through the sky, the suit's reactor has been torn out and he's hurtling to the ground in a rush of black and gold.

Wanda gasps and T'Challa makes an aborted movement as though he'd be able to transport himself into the scene and catch his beloved.

The camera is doing its best to follow Iron Man's descent, and they show the Hulk, too far away to catch him this time around.

T'Challa's heart is in his throat, already knowing that if Tony were to die, he'd follow soon after, there's no force in the world that could compel him to keep on living without Anthony in his life, when suddenly Tony disappears in a swirl of green light.

  
Loki materializes on a building near the helicopter, he's on his knees, Anthony splayed out across his lap and they can see his long fingers tremble as they try to take off the Iron Man mask.

Everyone breathes out a sigh they hadn't known they'd been holding, even Barton this time, and T'Challa nearly sags in relief.

This all changes when the camera zooms in on the scene, uncaring of the fight that continues to rage on in front of them, and they all see Loki cradling Tony's face in a soft gesture, they all watch as Tony smiles blindlingly up at Loki, head tilted as he says something to the God, and they all turn to stare at T'Challa, wondering if his eyes saw what theirs did.

  
Judging by the stricken look on the King's face, they know he did.

 

 


End file.
